


==> Hussie: "Witness" The End.

by spasticVocalist



Series: Witness The End [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Sequel to Reader: Witness The End, i enjoyed writing this far more than i should have
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 12:39:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3327311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spasticVocalist/pseuds/spasticVocalist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hussie wakes up to find his computer working. </p><p>By itself. </p><p>On Homestuck. </p><p>The fuck is this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	==> Hussie: "Witness" The End.

The fuck is this. 

Your computer seems to be working on its own. You quicken your pace as you make your way over to it. 

You had woken up this morning (or more accurately this afternoon; it's past twelve, but toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe you guess) determined to get back to working on your largest and most popular creation yet: Homestuck. 

Your ever-expanding fanbase waits not-so-patiently for it's finale, and you simply cannot deny them it. 

Hah. That makes it sound like you actually want to please them, though. Nah, you just can't wait to get this piece of shit burden off your shoulders. 

Originally, you had not planned for Homestuck to get as big as it had, but, well... You kind of got a little too invested in the story, and by the time you took a moment to look at what you had done, the comic had become as monstrous as it's fandom. At that point, you begrudged to finish it out of pride, or to prevent the loss of yours, to be precise. (There was also the whole "fear for your life because some people in the fandom were shithive crazy motherfuckers that you would not put past murder" thing.) But then life and all of your other projects caught up to you, and you weren't able to update as frequently as you would have liked. Thus began the Gigapause. 

Now, that is not to say that this was the first hiatus that you had decided to grace your (creepyoverbearingfreakshow) devoted fandom with; on the contrary, the Gigapause had a plethora of predecessors. The fact simply was that the Gigapause was different. 

Because the end of the Gigapause meant the end of Homestuck. 

Essentially, this meant that you had stopped posting updates so that you could finish all of the pages before posting all of them in the final Gigaupdate, as it had so been christened. 

Getting back to the issue at hand, your computer is working by itself. On Homestuck. Oh fuck it is posting pages that you didn't draw/write or have someone else draw. You have no idea where this shit came from. Or where the pages filled with the deaths of most of the remaining characters that you wrote went. Oh shit oh fuck what the hell is going on? 

An image flashes through your mind, and you freeze. 

No... That couldn't... That's not... It couldn't be...

There is just no feasible way that...

 

==>

 

... Ok, so you had this dream last night, right?

And in it, you may or may not have pressed a gigantic button that said, "==> Homestuck: End." But you swear to fuck, you thought you had your authorial powers under control. You had no idea that it would actually do anything, and you had no idea that it was real. But, judging by the fact that you no longer have control over your mouse (or the computer, obviously), you suppose it was. 

You watch as page after newly added page flashes across your screen. Goddamn. These pages make even less sense than the ones you had planned did. They look like they were made by some weaboo fangirl that wouldn't recognize a good story if it fucked her up the butt. 

What the hell? Did it just say that Lord English was Caliborn? That is /so/ not true. Lord English was only /part/ of Caliborn. Specifically, the part that hated Calliope. 

There is a flash of light behind you, and you freeze, bitching about the story being out of your control - and therefore horribly inaccurate - forgotten. A voice, familiar and yet not, speaks. "Lookin' good."

You turn around. 

You stare back at yourself, clad in full Waste of Space regalia. 

"Holy shit."

"Hah. I remember saying that." Future you smirks. 

"...Again?" You ask, sighing. 

"Yup. Sorry, man. Last time was a blast compared to this one."

"Goddamnit."

"Too bad we couldn't bring Rufio back, huh?"

"Yeah... Damn, I can't believe I'm going to have to go through this, /again/."

Future you shrugs. Takes two envelopes out of his pants. Hands them to you. 

"Woah, sHIT! Are you missing a finger?!" A normal person would probably focus on the fact that the envelopes had been pulled from his pants... Probably? You really wouldn't know. 

"Huh?" He - or you, rather - looks down at his - your - hand. "Oh, yeah. Two actually." Future you holds your future hands up, showcasing your future missing middle fingers. "It sucks. I can't properly display how many fucks I don't give anymore." Future you frowns. 

You sigh again. Rub your temples. "... Am I allowed to know... Are you allowed to tell me how we lose them?"

"Uh... Well, let's just say that a certain Time Lord with anger issues does not appreciate our use of them. Or our "attitude", whatever that means." Future you supplies generously. 

"... What."

"Enjoy it while you can, man. Speaking of which..." Future you pauses. Then he mutters, "When did I..."

A door appears in another flash of light, behind future you and to his left a bit, by your perspective. 

"OH YEAH." He looks a bit panicked as he glances at the door. "LATER." 

With that, future you disappears in the third flash of light in as many minutes. 

You hear a voice behind the door. It is frenzied, and starts out faint, but gradually gets louder. "FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!" A figure - a blur of green and red - opens the door and slams it shut behind him.

Caliborn, in all of his short, green, skull-headed glory, stands with his back pressed against the door, chest and breath heaving. His eyes are squeezed shut in anticipation of the onslaught of whatever peril he had been running from previously. 

A few moments pass, and, just as he begins to open his eyes, the door behind him disappears. As he had presumably been leaning a good amount of his weight on it, he loses his balance as soon as it vanishes, and flails a bit before falling backward. 

You laugh. "Smooth moves, kid."

There is a sharp intake of breath before Caliborn propels himself off the floor like it's made of lava. Wide-eyed and frantic, he points at you in terror and shouts, "You!"

You nod and point to yourself, saying, "Me." You point to him. "You." Because you are a sarcastic asshole and also a riot. 

Ignoring your comical genius like the ungrateful little asshole he is, he shouts, "How did you get here before me?! I heard you behind me! When I came through the door!"

Goddamn future you and his stable-reality-altering-loop shenanigans. He can go suck his own dick through a straw. 

But whatever. You can probably use this to your advantage to fuck with the little green assturd. "What did you expect, dumbass? I'm your fucking god."

"Yeah. Right. Like I am going to believe that. I am not as dumb as you think I am, orange man."

"Eh. It was worth a shot, I guess." You shrug. "So, why are you here, exactly?"

"Because you were chasing me. Stupid orange man. You should already know this."

"It was future me. Technically not me yet." You supply helpfully. 

"Future stupid orange man. Right now stupid orange man. Back then stupid orange man. Who fucking cares? They are all still you. Orange man. And they are all still fucking stupid.

"So, why was future me chasing you? ... Actually, he was probably chasing you to lead you here, now that I think about it. So, why were you running away, is what I guess I should ask."

He flushed. "T-that is not important! If you do not already know. Then maybe. If I do not tell you. You will never know. And it will not happen." Caliborn convinces himself. You decide not to comment on how stupid that sounded, as if you were to comment on every stupid thing that came out of his mouth, you would never shut up. You assume that future you was trying to hug him or some stupid shit like that, because of how flustered he got when you asked him about it. 

"Right. Of course." You say, absentmindedly, as you examine the envelopes future you gave you. Just as usual, another game, another logo. The game this time is entitled 'Slurb' and is as original as ever. God, you hate this shit. This means you're going to have to die, /again/. And fuck if you know what Mr. Not-even-an-entire-braincell behind you is going to do to fuck you up (beside the whole finger thing). 

Examining the paper envelopes more closely, you realize that both of them contain server and client disks of their own. Oh. Alright. 

You root around in your desk until you find what you are looking for: an old laptop that you rarely ever use but still possess for whatever reason. Checking that it still works (it does), you shove it at the obnoxious cherub behind you along with one of the game packets. 

"What the-" he begins. 

"Let's play a game." You cut him off, knowing this will get a reaction from him. 

"A game you say? Are you sure. That you want to play one of those. With me? There's no way you will beat me-"

"It's not a competitive game, dipshit."

"Then what purpose does it-"

"Neither of us has a choice, so just shut up already." Damn, this kid's annoying. 

He fails epically to cease producing sounds from his windhole, so you eventually just tune him out. 

You slip a game disk out of its paper confines. You stare at it in nostalgia and apprehension. 

Placing the silver circle in its slot in your computer, you chuckle lightly. 

Caliborn shuts up at this, only to start talking again to ask you a question, "What the fuck are you laughing at."

You continue to chuckle, staring distantly at the Slurb loading screen. It takes you a few moments, but you eventually reply. 

 

"It keeps happening."


End file.
